Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?
by Saran VD
Summary: What if April was really alive? MarkApril, RogerMimi, AngelCollins yes Angel lives!, and MoJo. R&R PLEASE! COMPLETLY AU. If you don't like April... o nvm.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I know that this is a really weird idea, but it popped into my head and it won't go away. Grr…**

**Review if you read this (I except anonymous reviews…): I want to know what people think.**

**HAVE FUN!**

Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?

Prologue

It was over a year after Mimi's near-death experience when the loft got a phone call that would change their life forever.

Mark worked for Buzzline now, Mimi had quit smack and the Catscratch, and Roger was actually _happy_.

August 2nd, 1992. 3 PM, EST. The phone rang, and Mark picked up without screening.

A young woman was on the other line. "May I please speak to Roger Davis?"

Mark hollered for Roger, who grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Roger?" said the woman. "You might not remember me. We went to high school together. I'd like to meet for dinner, if that's ok."

Roger was confused. "Dinner? Where?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about the Life Café?"

_Who did I go to high school with that knows about the Life?_ Roger wondered. "Yeah, that's cool. Sure, why not?"

"Great!" she said. "Meet me at about, say, 6:30?"

"Can't wait," Roger lied.

"Can you bring all of your new friends? I'd like to meet them."

"Fine. See you," said Roger, determined to get back to Mimi, who was waiting, alone and confused, for him in the bedroom.

They hung up.

"Mark," Roger said with a smile, "can you please call Mo, Jo, Angel, and Collins? We're going to go to the Life for dinner later."

Mark nodded, and Roger ran back to Mimi, picking up where they had left off.

_**INSERT LINE HERE!**_

When Roger, Mimi, Collins, Maureen, Joanne, and Angel all got to the Life Café, only one person was waiting outside.

She was a pale red-haired young woman leaning casually against the wall. She was short, about Mimi's height, and she wore a denim mini-skirt and a white tank top that revealed a heart-shaped tattoo on her left shoulder. She smiled warmly at everyone. "Hello, Roger."

Roger, Mark, and Collins all had expressions of shock and delight on their faces. Maureen, Mimi, Joanne, and Angel were merely confused.

The redhead walked towards them.

Collins was the first to greet her. "I never thought I'd see you again…"

Mark pulled her into a friendly hug. "Holy fucking God!"

She hugged him back. "It's good to see you, Marky."

"Who is she, Mark?" asked Maureen.

"Erikkson," said the woman, "April Erikkson."

_**INSERT LINE HERE!**_

**You like? You hate? Review, please!**

**Note 1: April's last name is _not_ the byproduct of me not knowing it. She changed it. More later.**

**Note 2: If you are _totally_ confused, read chapters 3&4 of_ Me and My Guitar_ by Nathan Emily and Sarah. Even if your not lost, read them anyway because a) they'll help you understand things to come and b) Nathan and I need reviewers! ;-)**


	2. The Eyes of a Young Girl

**A/N: Thanks to all of those who reviewed: love you! (Now, please review _Me & My Guitar_ lol) Seriously, though. Please review that one. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Oh yeah, and from here on out, until I say otherwise, it's April's POV. I decided to have her just use names because otherwise it would be annoying and like, "the curly-haired woman said" and, "Roger's new girlfriend looked around nervously".**

**Read _Me & My Guitar_! I promise, it will explain a lot.**

Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?

**The Eyes of a Young Girl**

Roger was speechless. Mimi looked around nervously. Joanne, however, was joyous.

"_The_ April Erikkson?" she gasped. "I've read your books. They're fabulous!"

I blushed. "Thanks…"

"Joanne Jefferson."

"Joanne."

"She called me my first name!" Joanne hissed to Maureen.

"You're a published author!" gasped Mark and Collins. Roger still couldn't talk.

"Yep. And _you_ work for Buzzline." I smiled at Mark.

Mark shrugged. "Oh well. What can you do?"

I was surprised. "You don't like it?"

Roger finally had the guts to talk. "How the fuck did this happen?"

"Well, after…" I cut off sadly.

Collins smiled sympathetically. "That horrible day," he prompted.

I took a deep breath and nodded agreement. "I couldn't take it. I staged my death. _That's_ why you never found a body."

"Yeah, I wondered about that…" said Mark, but a glare from Roger shut him up.

"So you ran away?" Roger said. "What about me? You don't think I went through hell, too?"  
"But Roger," I said. "It was my fault. Don't deny it," I snapped at Mark and Collins, who opened their mouths to protest. "I caused his death. It was all because of me."

"I helped," said Roger angrily. "He was my son, too. I helped give him AIDS."

"I don't have AIDS," I mumbled.

Everyone stared at me. I could feel it.

"You don't?" Mimi said, confused. "But Roger got tested several days after you 'died'. The test was positive."

"He didn't get it from me," I said. "I tested negative _yesterday_."

"So you lied about that, too." Roger looked like I had slapped him.

"Look, Roge, I'm sorry. But I couldn't..."

"I don't want to hear anymore of your bullshit," Roger said angrily.

I wouldn't back down. "I just came for forgiveness."

"Well, don't expect any."

I glared at him. "You haven't changed a bit. When will you ever learn to grow up?"

"Grow up? I'm not the one who faked my death because my son died."

"I just wanted to start over."

"You and I could've easily done that."

"Don't you see, Roger?" I said to him, praying that he wouldn't take what I was about to say the wrong way. "I couldn't start over _with you_. I needed some April time."

"We could've taken a break."

"No, Roger. I didn't want the pressure of knowing that someone was counting down the days until he could take me back. I wanted to be alone."

Maureen seemed to understand. "Same thing happened with me and her," she said, jabbing a thumb at Joanne. "I couldn't take her bullshitting me anymore…"

"I was _not_ bullshitting you!" Joanne argued.

"So we broke up for a _long_ time. We thought it would be forever. Then Angel and Mimi both almost died, so we realized how precious life is and we got back together."

I stared at them. They just didn't get it, and I was starting to get pissed.

Mark got it, though. "You aren't helping, Mo."

"I fully realize how precious life is, Maureen," I said, guessing that that was what "Mo" stood for. "I realized that with Junior three years ago."

"Junior?" asked Roger.

"Well, I've gotta call him something."

Collins finally said something. "Do you even know who everyone is?"

"Well," I said. "Mimi and I were in rehab together for a little while. Two days before I left, she came. And I now know Joanne, and I think she's Maureen." I smiled at Angel. "But I don't know you," I confessed.

"Angel Dumott Schunard, the love of my life," Collins explained.

I smiled at the drag queen. "Hey, Angel." I laughed, remembering in the hospital all those years ago, realizing Collins was gay. He'd reminded me of Roger and my friend so much…

But my bubble burst remembering how moments later a nurse had walked in, kicked the guys out, and announced Junior's death.

I sniffed. "I should go. I'll see you guys!" I caught a taxi and headed home to my apartment.


	3. I Die Without You

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this. I was too busy working on my other fics. And the fun part is, I've had it in my notebook for weeks!**

**Oh, and if you were looking for _Me and My Guitar_, it's under my favorites.**

**OK, this chapter is Mimi's POV.**

Slitting her Wrists in the Bathroom?

**I Die Without You**

"Hi there, whoever you are! You have reached April Erikkson, which you probably know if you called this number! If you didn't realize that, you messed up BIG time and dialed a wrong number. However, if you were actually _trying_ to call me, there's gonna be a beep soon. I think you know what to do."

"I got her answering machine!" I called to Maureen and Joanne.

"Leave a message," Maureen told me as she walked past with her arms full of bags of chips. "She might screen."

I took a deep breath. "Hey, April, this is Mimi. We were all gonna have a party at the loft later, and I was…"

"Hey, Mimi," said April, picking up the phone. I relaxed.

"Can you come?" I asked, secretly hoping she couldn't.

"What time?"

"Say, seven?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Nah. Only if you want to."

We hung up.

"She's coming," I told Mo and Jo.

"Great! Which means we need to finish cleaning _fast_, before the guys get back," said Joanne.

Maureen shoved everything into a closet. "It's clean."

Joanne glared at her. "Is not."

I quickly butted in. "I'm still confused about the whole April thing. Roger won't…"

"He's not going anywhere, Mimi," Maureen reassured me.

I twisted my ring around my finger. "I don't know…"

"What happened between them anyway?" asked Joanne.

"Well," said Maureen, "it's a long story…"

Joanne and I sat at Maureen's feet like preschoolers during story-time.

Mo chuckled. "Well, Roger and April were together in their senior year of high school. Actually, I was in the same high school as them. They were kinda the bad crowd…"

"No surprises there," noted Joanne. I kicked her.

"Will you let me finish? Well, a couple years after graduation, they moved here, to this very loft, together. The neighbor's that used to live in _your_ place," she said, pointing at me, "gave April her first taste of smack. The story goes that in high school she used to eat Twinkies all the time. So instead of eating, she used smack. But I'm rambling.

"Anyway, April got Roger addicted, and several months later, Roger met Mark, and Mark moved in. That same day, April discovered that she was pregnant with her and Roger's child, _and_ their old friend Marty called with news that she had AIDS."

"Talk about a big day," I muttered to Joanne. She shushed me.

None of us noticed the guys walk in.

By now, Maureen was really getting into the story. "April tried to quit. But she couldn't. So one day, she was about six months along, so you could tell she was expecting, she went out to get herself and Roger some smack. But on the way home…"

Collins joined in. "She was mugged."

Maureen looked around. She smiled innocently.

Roger looked more sorrowful than I'd ever seen him. I _hated_ that look of helplessness I saw on his face. I got up, walked over to him, and gave him a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Roger. I just wanted to know."

"It's no trouble," Roger lied. "Finish the story, one of you."

Maureen and Collins looked at each other. "You go ahead," Maureen said, surprising all of us. "You were actually there."

Collins took a deep breath. "Well, I saw everyone going after her. I didn't know who she was, but I was right near a payphone, and she was expecting to have a baby, so I did the best thing I could think of. I called 911, and once that was done, I chased all the men who were beating her away. She was all purple, and horribly bruised. I sat by her, holding her head in my lap, until the ambulance came."

The door was still open, and who should walk in but April. She carried a pan of brownies, and she just stared at Collins as he told her story. I could very well have been the only one who noticed her.

"I rode with her in the back of the ambulance. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and whenever she woke up, she was whispering, 'Roger, Roger Davis.'" He sighed. "When we got to the hospital, the doctors told me to call Roger Davis. I didn't really know who that was, but I called anyway. Thank heaven for the yellow pages!" He laughed weakly. "So, I called, and Roger and Mark came to the hospital. Shortly after they arrived, a nurse came out and told Roger that his son was delivered prematurely by C-section, because that was the only chance they had to save him. Roger insisted that we be let into her room. The nurse gave in.

"April woke up about twenty minutes later. She was frantic with worry, more about her son than herself. Introductions were made, and then the nurse came in, insisting that she needed to talk to April alone. So we left. I really don't know what was said between the two of them, do either of you know?" Collins asked Mark and Roger. They shook their heads.

"She told me that the chances of my baby living longer than a month were slim to none," April said, still grasping the brownies. Her mascara was running down her face. It was obvious that while Collins was talking, she'd been crying.

"April!" gasped Collins. "When did you get here?"

"Around the time you were talking about riding with me in the ambulance."

"Can I finish the story?" asked Collins. "Meems, Jo, and Angel have a right to know."

April nodded. Her knuckles were white from clutching the tray so tightly.

"Well, after that, we went back in the room, and the nurse brought the baby in."

April took a deep breath, clearly trying not to cry out loud. "He was so little… tiny. Unnaturally so. And he wasn't the right color, either. More purple than anything. And I reached in, gloves on my hands, to touch my son… and he wasn't warm." She finally broke down into sobs.

Angel walked over and relieved April of the brownies.

"It was _awful_. That was the scariest day of my life. Nothing can ever be as awful as reaching out to touch your child and feeling that he's unresponsive. Dead. And it was all my fault…"

So much for us all having a party.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: God I hate Global Studies… I have this stupid paper about China to write, but I don't wanna write it! So I'm gonna update this! It's a brilliant idea! **

**On with the fic!**

Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?

_Chapter 4_

I sat in front of my computer, thinking about what to write. I had no inspiration, but my editors wanted me to come up with something. I tried to tell them that I could just write another cookbook, after all I still had more recipes, but they said that two was plenty and now it was time for me to write a real book. But what the hell is a "real book"?

My phone rang, and grateful for the distraction, I answered it.

"Hey, April," said the familiar voice of Mark Cohen.

"Hi, Mark. What's up?" I asked.

"I just feel bad about last night. None of us expected…"

"I know, Mark. I know. It's not your fault."

"But-"

"Mark, just shut up. It's fine."

He laughed. "Fine. It's so good to talk to you again. I missed you so much."

I blushed. "That's sweet."

"I'd like to talk more later. Wanna meet me at the Life for dinner?"

"You mean," I giggled, "like a date?"

"No! No, just to, you know, catch up." He sounded awkward.

"I'd be happy to, Mark."

"How about at, say, six thirty?" he said happily.

"Sure, Mark. See you then." I hung up and smiled. Judging by his reaction to the "date" thing, there wasn't going to be anything between us, thank god. I turned back to my blank computer screen, ran my fingers through my hair and sighed, still stumped. Maybe Marky could help.

* * *

_Mark's POV…

* * *

_

Of course, Mimi had to hear me on the phone, at least the end of the call. She grinned at me mischievously.

"Ooooh, who's Marky going out with tonight?" she asked.

"Nobody…"

"Hey, Roger! Mark's going out with a girl tonight!"

Roger joined Mimi and I in the main room. "Oh, who?"

"Nobody!" I said, feeling my ears turn red.

"This 'nobody' is making you blush, Mark."

"Alright, fine, I'll tell you. This girl from… work… and I are going to the Life Café for dinner at six thirty. Happy?" I told them, thinking of an excuse fast.

"Thanks, Mark. I'm proud of you. You haven't lost the touch, after all," teased Roger. I scowled at him.

"Well, Mark, you should get ready. It's getting late," Mimi advised. "You want to look best for…"

"Jan," I finished, ignoring Roger's puzzled look. "You're right, it's five o'clock, and I should get ready."

* * *

_Third Person...

* * *

_

April and Mark met in front of the Life at promptly six thirty. She was wearing a _Phantom of the Opera_ tee shirt with a pair of jeans. Her hair was pulled in a high ponytail with a piece of black ribbon tied around the base of it. Mark was wearing his usual red long sleeved tee shirt, jeans, and his precious scarf. He smiled and held the door open for her. She nodded thanks and walked in.

The manager, usually so unhappy to see Mark, looked overjoyed. "M-M-Miss Erikkson! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

April blushed.

"Table for two?" he asked, leading her and Mark over to a table by the window that the manager only let his favorite people sit. "I never imagined I'd see you here, Miss Erikkson. My wife idolizes you; she forced me to use some of your recipes. You don't mind, do you?"

Mark had never seen the manager talk this much and this happily in his presence.

April shook her head. "No, of course not!"

"You are just too good, Miss Erikkson, but I think you can do better than _him_," he added in a whisper in her ear.

April backed away and grabbed Mark's hand. "I disagree."

Mark's heart skipped a beat.

"Well, here's your table, if you need anything don't be afraid to ask," he said, handing them menus.

April smiled politely and sat down.

Mark sat across from her. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Least I could do."

* * *

Meanwhile, the manager was still on a cloud when Angel, Collins, Roger, Mimi, Joanne, and Maureen came in. He led them to a table, still smiling.

Everyone was surprised that he wasn't swearing at them and telling them to get out.

They sat at their usual table, ordered their typical "wine and beer," and searched for Mark without looking obvious.

"I don't see him," reported Mimi, after going to the bathroom to reapply lip-gloss.

"Me neither," said Angel, who had pretended to leave her purse outside so she could check the front. "Any girls in the bathroom, Meems? Named Jan?"

"Nope. But April was retouching her mascara."

"April's here?" asked Roger, his fears confirmed.

"Yeah. Go figure."

"Mark's dating April?" asked Maureen, who had only started paying attention to the conversation at that moment.

"No…" said Joanne. "He's dating some girl named Jan, remember?"

"No, he's dating April," Roger snapped.

Everyone turned to him for an explanation.

Roger sighed. "April's nickname in high school was Jan."

Mimi, Angel, Collins, Maureen, and Joanne all clearly didn't believe him.

"I swear!"

Mimi rolled her eyes. "We could always just say we heard April Erikkson was here and we want an autograph."

"No way! If she's with Mark…" Roger started.

"Which I doubt!" added Joanne. "He would tell us."

"For some reason, I don't think he would," suggested Angel.

"Why not?"

"Well, he knew we'd probably stalk them or mock him forever, or something… which we would do."

Everyone sheepishly agreed.

"'Specially with April," added Maureen.

"But he's not with… APRIL! What a pleasant surprise!" said Joanne with a wide grin.

April waved and walked over. "I thought I saw Mimi. You applied your lip gloss about five times."

Mimi blushed. "Yeah. Mark's out with some girl from work. Jan."

April paid full attention to that. "Is he?"

"Yeah. I wanted to meet her."

April grinned. "If you do…"

"Yes?"

"Tell her that was my nickname in high school," she said, and she got up and left.

"Told you so," mumbled Roger. Everyone sighed.

* * *

"So…" said April to Mark as she sat back down. "Jan?"

"First name I thought of," he mumbled.

I sighed. "Roger made the connection, even if no one else did."

"So? Let them think things. I don't care."

April tried to figure out what he meant by that. "What are you saying?"

He changed the subject. "You know Maureen was my girlfriend before, right?"

"You dated a lesbian?" April giggled.

* * *

Maureen was watching where April was sitting and decided to see if Roger's theory was worth anything. She pretended that she was headed to the bathroom and walked by April's table in time to hear Mark say, "I had feelings for her until you came back," and see him pull a red-haired girl into a kiss. With a silent squeal, she dashed back to the table.

"So, wait, Mark _kissed_ someone?" asked Joanne in amazement.

"Yeah! Couldn't tell you who, though. I never saw her face."

Everyone looked at each other in astonishment. Then, Mimi yawned. "Time to go home. We saw everything we needed to see to be able to taunt Mark for a couple years yet."

Maureen decided to keep the knowledge about him having liked her. She also purposely said that she didn't recognize the person, deciding, for once, to consider someone else's feelings. She didn't think April would like everyone knowing all that much.

* * *

April pulled away from Mark after one second and smiled. "Not yet, Mark. I'm not ready for this."

Mark looked hurt, but he nodded agreement. "I guess it's better that way."

"I should go," she added, and gave him a peck on the cheek in farewell, secretly thrilled about how the night had gone.


	5. The Confrontation

**A/N: Howdy, everybody! Sorry I haven't worked on this one, in case none of you noticed, I put up a Harry Potter fic instead (ad fully intended). **

**It's in third person this chapter, in case you were wondering.**

**Thimbles from the author,  
****SARAN VD**

Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?

_The Confrontation_

When Mark arrived at the loft, no one else was home, but there was a message left on the machine.

"Hey, Roger, it's Mom. I just went to the bookstore to get a new cookbook, and guess what I saw? There was a cookbook by April Erikkson there. If it's the same April, maybe you can get together with her instead of that wretched girl Mimi. Roger, seriously, consider it. Call me when you get this."

Mark quickly deleted the message.

By the time Mimi, Roger, Angel, Collins, Maureen, and Joanne got back (drunk, of course), Mark was asleep. But not for long.

"MARK!" shrieked Maureen. "GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

Mark groaned and joined them in the main room. "Whozair?" he said groggily. He was still in his jeans and t-shirt from earlier.

"We are, and we have a bone to pick with you."

"That can't be good," he mumbled.

"You're damn right it's not!"

"Maureen?" asked Joanne cautiously. "Honeybear?"

Maureen's demeanor was immediately sweet and gentle. "Yes Pookie?"

"Why are you so angry?"

"BECAUSE MARK DIDN'T TELL US THAT HE WAS GOING OUT WITH APRIL!"

"What?!" gasped Mimi, Angel, Collins, and Joanne.

"I hate to say I told you so," said Roger.

"Why do you say that?" asked Mark.

"I saw you kiss her."

Insert astonished reactions here.

"Yeah, so what?" Mark snapped. "What does it matter? Aren't you happy that I have a girlfriend, _finally_?"

"Yeah, but it's _your best friends ex_!" Mimi hissed. "You don't _ever_ date your best friend's ex!"

"Well, _her_ ex is engaged, so I don't see the harm!"

"Well, I do!" said everyone else.

"Well that's too bad," said Mark, and he stomped back to his room.

_

* * *

April's POV_

* * *

Roger called me at three in the morning. Lucky for him, I was awake.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"April?" asked Roger, loudly. "Why are you whispering?"

I giggled. "Sorry."

"That's better. How was your date?"

"Oh, you know about that?"

"Yep."

"It was ok."

"Just ok?"

"Well, I don't know…"

"You can tell me."

"You'll tell Mark!"

"No I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Yeah, just ok."

"What made it 'just ok'?"

"I really don't know," I said, realizing it was true. "It just was."

"So, it wasn't bad?"

"No."

"Wanna hang out tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

"Roger, are you coming on to me?" I said nervously.

"No!" He laughed. "I just wanna catch up."

"Fine. Where and when?"

"The loft, tomorrow afternoon. Do you still have keys?"

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. See you then." He hung up.

I yawned, closed my notebook, and went to sleep.


	6. In the Eyes of the Beholder

**A/N: YAY! April AND ROGER GET TO "CATCH UP" THIS CHAPTER! Well, I'm excited! This chapter, we get to hear what happened since April's "death", which will probably explain a lot. I'm diverging a little bit from the actual plot of RENT (I KNOW THAT APRIL SLITS HER WRISTS IN RENT THANKYOUVERYMUCH!) so it makes sense in the story. Work with it please.**

**This is my last update before SUMMER! I have finals today, tommorow, and the next day. I won't be able to get on until my sisters are sent to camp and I can, in turn, use the computer.**

**Well, that was a slightly (You: SLIGHTLY?! (Me: all right, VERY!)) insane author's note. Thank you for your patience.**

**THIMBLES, and on with the fic!**

**Saran VD**

Slitting Her Wrists in the Bathroom?

_In the Eyes of the Beholder_

I arrived at the loft at three, hoping it was an okay time. Apparently, it was. Roger was alone in the loft, sitting on the decrepit couch, reading. _Reading?_ My mind exploded due to shock.

"Hey, April," he said, without looking up. My mind re-exploded.

"What are you reading?" I asked, plopping down next to him on the couch. Right after the question came out, I realized what he was reading. It was one of my old notebooks that I must've left behind. "Where did you find that?"

"You left it," he said.

"I realize that, but _where_ exactly did you find it?"

"By the windowsill."

I flipped the cover up so that I could see which notebook it was. I had assumed that it was a story that I had put on hiatus, never to work on it again. Instead, it was a rough draft of a novel I was working on still. "I have a newer draft of that in my apartment. It doesn't suck nearly as much as the old one."

"Shut up and let me read!" he spat.

I almost fainted. "It's that good?"

"_Yes_."

He finished remarkably quickly, closed the notebook, and turned to face me. "You left it with a cliffhanger," he growled.

"Sorry!"

He handed it to me. "Write more," he urged.

"I told you, I have a copy of it in a notebook at my apartment."

"Oh yeah…"

I laughed. "What have you been up to, Roger Davis? And how did you end up with Mimi?"

"Honestly, it was really weird."

"All the more reason for me to know what it is."

"Well, the power went out, and she came up here and asked me to light her candle, so I did."

I tried to picture it, but I just ended up laughing.

"Yeah, it was pretty funny, but cute. She kept blowing it out and bending over and… man, she looked hot."

"Roger!" I scolded.

"She did! Still does…"

"Alright, enough about your amazing sex life."

"Sorry." He glanced at me, taking in how my style had changed over the last five years. I had gone from wearing feminine, flattering dresses to simple, well-worn jeans and t-shirts. "And what about you?"

"Well," I told him, "you remember the note?"

He nodded. "'Dear Roger,'" he recited, "'I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I can't take any more of this shit that keeps happening to us. I messed up my life so badly, with drugs and HIV, that I can't stand to live it anymore. I've messed up your life in the same way, and it hurts me to know this. I have to end this pain. All my love forever, April Ericsson."

"You memorized it?"

He nodded.

"Well, anyway, I went over to the bridge, and let a shoe fall into the water. I put on my other pair of shoes and grabbed a taxi to my parents' house."

"So they knew the whole time."

"Will you let me finish? Anyway, my parents wouldn't let me leave home again until they were sure that I could fend for myself. That meant getting over the bohemian lifestyle, getting off of heroin, and being able to make my own living. Unfortunately, I never completely did one of the three.

"So Mom had me just stop using, getting rid of all the syringes and needles in the house. I don't think I've ever felt worse in my life. All my muscles were cramped, I had a fever, and I couldn't sleep. About a day after I stopped, my fever got so high that Mom and Dad had to take me to a hospital. I came really close to dying, which would've been a relief. Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky."

"Lucky?"

"Shut up, Roger," I said with a laugh, shoving him playfully.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I'm telling a story! Anyways, Mom decided that I would need more help, so she signed me up for rehab. I did ok, I guess. Actually, no, I failed completely. I started using again as soon as I got out of there. So Mom put me in rehab again… and again… and again. I failed every time. I had completely lost my will to succeed at anything.

"Mom tried to cure me by giving me responsibility. She gave me a kitten."

"A kitten?" Roger snorted.

"Don't be mean! Elsie's the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

Roger laughed again.

I rolled my eyes. "It worked, though. She was a little orphan kitten, and I had to bottle-feed her. It was like taking care of a human baby. Once I could leave Elsie alone without her yowling at the door for me, I went back to rehab, stuck with it, and finally quit.

"It took me two years to get rid of one of my vices, and according to my parents, I still had two more: my unemployment and my bohemian spirit. I solved my unemployment by working part-time at McDonald's. Most of my time was spent in the family kitchen, reading our old family recipes, and adding subtle changes: a squirt of lemon juice; a pinch of garlic; a half-cup of mozzarella cheese. Some of the stuff I tried was _awful_, but most of it was delicious. I wanted to write, so I simply took my recipes, organized them, added little characters that helped give instructions, and sent it to a publisher.

"I was lucky. I struck gold for the first time _ever_. They loved it, thought it was really unique, and I got my first- and only- book published. I don't quite know why all of New York thinks I've written more than one, unless there's a black-market of my old notebooks floating around."

"Well, maybe that's where I got this one," Roger said with a sly smile.

"Psh, yeah right," I snorted.

"So, anyway, is that all? Don't you have one vice left?" he asked.

"Remember, I still haven't cured myself of one of them." I sighed. "So, what's been going on with you guys?"

"Not much, we all have AIDS, 'No day but today,' me being angsty and unable to write songs. The usual."

"Why am I not surprised?"

The power went out. It was a cloudy day, so the room was dark. "Dammit," Roger growled.

"Oooh, is Roger afraid of the dark?" I teased.

"No!" he snapped, but his voice quavered. Tough-guy-rock-star-Roger was afraid of the dark!

"What, Roger, are you afraid that something might sneak up on you?" My fingers tiptoed up his arm to his shoulder.

"No!"

"Yes you are, don't lie. I've always been able to tell when you're lying."

"All right, _fine_. I don't like the dark. Got any candles?"

"Mimi would."

"True."

"But I'm not Mimi."

"And that's why I like you," he said. We fell silent. The pause lasted for what seemed like an eternmity. "I shouldn't have said that." Roger stood up and bustled around, searching for a non-electrical light source.

"Rog," I said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Yes?"

I pulled my keychain out of my russet leather Coach purse. "I have a mini flashlight." I pressed the on button, and a little beam of light shone on his face. He looked ashamed.

"You know I didn't… I mean… Mimi…" stumbled Roger.

"We're different," I finished, and he nodded meekly. I hadn't seen Roger fall apart like this in so long. It had only happened once before, and that was at the hospital.

I gave him a friendly squeeze. "When's the wedding?" I asked, not letting go right away.

"Three months," he said, brightening a little bit.

I pulled away and shone the light right into his eyes. "Do I get to come?"

"Of course!" He squinted to see through the light. "April!"

"What?"

"Get that damn light out of my eyes!"

I grinned, but lowered it. "Better?"

"Much."

"Got everything planned?"

"Outfits aren't going so well, since Joanne won't wear a dress and Angel doesn't want to wear a tux."

I laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"Oh, Roger," I said, patting him on the shoulder.

He grabbed my arm, twisted it, and pinned me to the couch.

"Mercy!" I yelled with a laugh, and I had barely started to sit up when the door opened quite unexpectedly. My flashlight automatically went to the doorway.

Standing there, frowning slightly, were Angel, Mimi, and Mark. I began to wonder how long they had been out there.

"Out," snapped Mimi, moving quickly beside Roger and placing a hand firmly around his waist.

Angel and Mark said nothing.

"And you _weren't_ invited!" snapped Mimi.

I hung my head and left like a dog, with my tail between my legs. "See you, Roger."

"Bye," he said, and as I closed the door, I heard a slap and Roger retort, "What did I do?"

_Note to self_, I thought, _Mimi is extremely jealous. Avoid crossing her in Roger's presence_.


End file.
